Pair of Legs and a Chair
by The-Turducken-Affairs
Summary: Sam knows all about running away from his problems. It's never worked before and it certainly won't work now. But what about wheeling away from his problems? In which Sam grows passionate and realizes that hunting isn't the only thing worth living for and Dean is a big grump. (Rated T for language, Spoilers told by chapter) Warning: Wheelchairs. There will also be some drama fyi


**Disclaimer: Supernatural ain't mine.**

**Warning: Swearing, violence in some chapters, spoilers at some point but there will be warnings for each chapter, talk of wheelchair use**

**I'm going to go ahead and forewarn you now that this story is going to involve something I'm not very well versed in: disabilities (namely: being "wheelchair bound," though I have heard that this term may be offensive to some). Also, keep in mind that Dean is in this story. So yeah, there will probably be some cheap shots and insults. But, you know, in a classy sort of way (not really, but Dean's hot, so he can get away with a lot of things).**

**ANYWAYS, my point is: I'm trying to approach this sensibly, but please don't take offense if I commit some sort of major faux pas because that's not the goal. I just figured, there's a down side to hunting (IT'S DANGEROUS) and I wanted to showcase that.**

**Also, our boys handle things in a very special way, so yeah…**

**Also, also, I have several ongoing stories out, so the general speed at which I update this will depend on how much interest there is. **

**Read, enjoy, review!**

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"Saaam! Get your bony ass over here!" Dean yells so loud Sam can almost feel the spittle from his brother's mouth land on him, two rooms and several steps away.

Sam does not respond. He makes not a word, nor a peep, nor a single sound, save for the subtle _whoosh_ of his hands pushing himself along. A minute later, he's made his way to Dean.

Dean- his friend, his caretaker, his currently very irritable, very furry brother.

Sam can't help it, he snorts. And then laughs, but mostly it's the first snort that does him in.

"This ain't funny! This is wrong. This is immoral and torturous and honestly, I don't remember raising you this way." The way Dean's words come out is somewhat sharp, but mostly just the ramblings of a man who's grown used to the arising absurdities that dealing with Sam for the past two years has entailed.

In this case, what's absurd is that Dean has allowed himself to be conned into donning a very big, _cuddly_ 'Teddy Bear Max 3000 _with Xtra Hugs_' suit of self-degradation. Now, Dean was never made the wiser to the fact and he's only now just realizing that self-respect may have flown out the window long ago, but his cheeks are still burningwith the shame of being a big, bear costumed softie.

"C'mon Dean. I know, contrary to popular belief, that you happened to be quite excited when the new '_Xtra Hugs_' edition to the Teddy Bear Max set came out. Luckily for you, I'm the bigger man, so I won't let anyone know."

This comment snaps Dean out of his little moment of embarrassment and pushes him right back into Dean Territory.

"Dude! You are no longer the bigger man. You're a freakin' midget. One wrong turn and you're getting the best view around of Balls City." Dean lets the words tumble out at the same time as his eyes roll around, making a show of being vaguely irritated and witty all at the same time. Except, oh shit.

Dean tries to look Sam in the face, he really does, but it's kind of difficult when you know the pain you'll see there is entirely your own fault. Still, Dean finally makes eye to wobbly chin contact, and, through great strenuous effort, pulls his eyes towards the rest of Sam's face.

"Sam. Sam, I'm-"

The bastard's laughing! His eyes are all happy and his mouth is crinkled into a ridiculously bad rendition of 'sad.' This freakin' bitch is _messing _with Dean.

Though, come to think of it, Sam's never lost his sense of humor, so Dean guesses this wouldn't be the time for Sam to chicken shit his way out of this messed up, cheery attitude.

All this time though and Dean's still not sure how Sam does it.

"What the hell is wrong with you Sammy?" Dean asks fondly, because this really is just Winchester code for asking how Sam can be so chill about how shit has hit the fan, completely and utterly.

Unlike Dean, Sam's comment has no lines to read in between. Deflected.

"Well, I do have issues with walking. Something to do with my 'busted up noodle limbs' as you so aptly put it once." He's flippant, waving away any worry of hurt feelings with his hands.

Dean has to stop himself from wincing. He's a mixture of proud and (this is the part that is giving him trouble, because it wasn't until recently he even realized that this was possible) not proud of his loose cannon name calling. Instead, he huffs out a breath.

"Sure, sure. Bring up what your poor, debilitated brother said in a moment of weakness." And then he smirks, because he's Dean freakin' Winchester and that's what he does.

Sam's blunt with this next bit, "Dean, you were drunk, not debilitated."

The next part of what Sam's said is said with a more airy tone, "Besides, _I _was just answering your question. **What the hell is wrong with you, Sammy.**" Sam quotes Dean's own words while he pushes his head forward, his eyebrows furrow greatly, and his voice deepens to an outrageously exaggerated baritone that not even Dean tries to talk in. It's as if Sam is trying to emulate a grumpy beast, rather than his manly, handsome brother.

"And it's Sam, not Sammy."

"Yeah, well, you're about the same height now as you were in your 'Sammy' days." And then Dean blows a raspberry at Sam.

And that is that. Except…

"Shit! We're gonna be late!" Sam says after a lazy look around the room turns panicked when his eyes land on the time.

Sam hightails out of there, going back to his room to finish getting ready.

Dean is left behind, alone within the confines of his increasingly awkward costume (you ever try standing alone in your own house in a Teddy Bear costume? No? I'll let you in on a little secret. It's pretty freakin' awkward.).

Man, who knew that Sam could be more trouble when seated?


End file.
